#don't expect much ryne content though

[nights-at-crystarium]

[tiny-cloud-of-flowers]

hi ari !! what would lorenza be like , as a trust avatar for dungeons ? how often / quick would she use the limit break, are there any dungeons post endwalker that u think she'd be a part of for the story ?

Hello, friend! Thank you so much for such a neat question! I apologise somewhat for how long the answer has ended up, but only because I was not expecting it to get this long, and I wish I could summon this same sort of ability to answer the rest of the asks in my inbox.

Hmm.. I haven't really thought about Lorenza as being a Trust avatar, but I do agree that she would be a Duty Support option for post-Endwalker dungeons. Specifically, the Fell Court of Troia, Lapis Manalis, possibly the Aetherfont, and the Lunar Subterrane - I don't think she would be part of the initial Alzadaal's Legacy expedition, only being brought into the plot after it became evident that there's a voidgate down there. She would also appear in certain alliance raids, like the World of Darkness and possibly Dun Scaith (and possibly the other two Shadows of Mhach raids as well), though probably not in playable form - it would be a bit like how the Royal City of Rabanastre starts out with Ramza and Lina Mewrilah alongside everyone. Her voiceline when selected for Trust changes depends on which dungeon you're going into - it's "I shall do what I can.." for Shadowbringers content on the First, "Let us end this." for post-5.3 and Endwalker dungeons, and "Sit back and watch the show!" for the post-Endwalker ones. This reflects her different levels of comfort in different worlds and parts of the story. Alternatively, if Zero has already been added to the party, then bringing Lorenza in as well will cause her to say "This is how it should be, here with you.." to her - which the player may well interpret as being aimed at them, but it's very clearly not >w<

In terms of how she would work, Lorenza's class as a Trust avatar would be Void Princess, a magical ranged DPS which mostly acts like a Black Mage except her actual spell effects are different (since, her magic is void-based, and her spells are either prefaced with the Void prefix or just outright called different things to show this). She is very keen to keep herself out of harm's way, making common use of Aetherial Manipulation to teleport to whoever is not going to get hit by whatever attack is coming next, instead of running away from it herself. If you have Zero in the party as the other DPS, then Zero becomes able to use the Enshroud skills of a reaper, as Lorenza is able to provide her with strength as if she were her avatar; this is about the only time she will sacrifice her personal DPS for the sake of boosting someone else's. (You may have noticed that this isn't entirely congruent with how I play as Lorenza when I play the game, since I've been playing her as a reaper post-Endwalker instead of a black mage. However, Zero already occupies the reaper-like niche as a memoriate, and magic suits Lorenza better than melee anyway.)

Alternatively, based on the fact that the Trust system currently doesn't have any physical ranged DPS options, I am also considering letting her be her Shadowbringers class, Glaivethrower - or just an alternate version of Void Princess with the Dancer icon, since I don't think all-rounders like G'raha change class name when deciding exact role. This is a ranged DPS that functions identically to Dancer, reflecting the twin-sickled fighting style she picked up from Lyna during the time she spent weakened on the First, but with a much more ominous/dark flavour to the visual effects and different attack names, because unlocking Trust means that the First has been saved and she can be back up to more like her initial power level. She will "dance partner" with the other DPS, unless that DPS is Ryne, in which case she will partner with the tank (simply because I don't think Ryne's light and Lorenza's darkness would be particularly compatible, oops). This would make her Shadowbringers appearance (or, rather, post-Shadowbringers since she'd have her hood down) her only option at level 70, leading into her level 80 glamour being her Endwalker appearance, and her level 90 glamour her post-Endwalker appearance.

Regarding the limit break.. if you (the player) are the other DPS, then Lorenza will not use the limit break unless it's either been at level 3 for a long time, or she can calculate that it will defeat the boss, at which point she uses it instantly; however, if Zero is the other DPS, she will never use the limit break in order to let Zero use it, which may or may not be the only time she actually does use them, I'm not sure. So, if you want to be the one to use the limit break, my suggestion would be to use it as soon as it hits level 3, so you're not wasting any of the gauge. I'm wondering whether Lorenza might have a stronger limit break than she should do for not being a melee DPS, simply because of the implication that limit breaks are powered by dynamis instead of aether, and voidsent are not only not subjected to any rejoinings (so have less aether than beings of the Source), but are almost always aether-starved to begin with because of how the Thirteenth is. So, wouldn't it be possible that someone from a reflection - like Lorenza - would be able to harness dynamis to more of an extent than someone from the Source - like most of the Scions? Leading to a more powerful limit break?

I hope that all of this answers your question, friend ^-^ thank you so much once again for sending it in!!!

[rivenroad]

Post-6.5 thoughts

on MSQ/Myths/Endwalker in general.

While there have been things I liked in this patch and the recent MSQ arc in general, it's a shame that my ultimate feeling upon the end of it is "glad that's over so we can move on"... I like Zero a lot and the stuff with Ryne in this patch but that's about all really. I don't hate it or think it's terrible but I just didn't really care much for any of it either.

Not sure if I like the conclusion of this part of Zero's arc, perhaps because of my lack of interest in the overall story I didn't feel much about it. I loved her and the way things developed with her in previous patches but here I was kinda just like... "oh, okay". It just didn't really feel very impactful for something that should really have been a big deal. I don't think this will be the last we see of her, but even so...

I think the way I would have liked for this to be handled is for it to be a prologue to an expansion that was very similar to Shadowbringers in concept, where we visit the Thirteenth in a more major way, restoring various areas of it. Given the status of the place, that is, much further gone than the First was, it might be difficult to pull this off with how the game presently works... I think to do it effectively they'd need something along the lines of how they've already handled changing environments based on quest progression, but it would need to be much more drastic than just changing weather effects and the occasional structure. I have hopes that it's possible in future for them to do something like that, especially with the upcoming graphics update, but now is probably not the time.

So I guess what I saying is that I feel as though this arc would be a nice build-up to a Void-themed expansion but it's not. It's a somewhat uninteresting story arc to me which ends in a predictable and not particularly exciting way and just has a vague promise of future content... It could come around to being amazing eventually, like how I simply didn't care about the Warriors of Darkness arc before Shadowbringers, thought it was awkwardly placed and uninteresting, and look how that turned out. lol.

I don't want to place too much expectation on it, though... It's hard not to with something I'm so invested in, but Endwalker in general has disappointed me a lot by not doing things how I would have liked them. I didn't like how most of the 6.0 MSQ was handled, I think it was a poor decision to cram it into a single expansion instead of allowing it the time and space that was originally planned for it. I did enjoy Elpis and Pandaemonium as they are, but if it were my choice, I would have preferred that the details of Ancients were still largely left a mystery.

I suppose the Void thing feels a bit like the Ancient situation right now. They elaborated on a lot of mysteries of the place, but currently, in a rather unsatisfying way that doesn't go far enough and sort of leaves me feeling like I wish they hadn't done it and just waited until they could execute it better with more time and resources.

This also applies to Myths of the Realm, really... I don't hate it, I like Deryk, I like the designs of the Twelve and enjoyed seeing and interacting with them to a degree... but ultimately it felt like a miss for me and I sort of wish they hadn't done it. The conclusion was underwhelming, I'm still not totally sure how I feel about the decisions made there but right now I can't say I'm a fan. I need more time to consider my feelings there, but, well... it's another part of Endwalker that just doesn't quite hit the mark for me, and it's a shame to look back on this expansion and feel so much dissatisfaction.

However, the positive side of this is that I'm very much intrigued to see where things go from here. A totally new setting and story for Dawntrail has a lot of potential, and I'll try not to get too caught up in my own hopes and expectations... but even when I do, there's a good side to that as well - inspiration. Everything that I wish for in FFXIV (or any other story) that doesn't happen is something I can make happen myself, in my own stories and creative endeavours.

[myreia]

wip whenever except it's not a line

I got a little too invested in writing Thancred and Urianger banter and now I have +3000 words of it. 😔 I don't know when I will be able to finish this chapter (it's the second in a 5-parter that isn't posted yet), but I want to share what I have been working on so, I'm dropping half of it here and running.

Unedited and spoilers for Shadowbringers base game.

untitled chapter two

Thancred exhales a long sigh and folds his arms, shifting idly from foot to foot. Despite the thick layers of his overcoat, he can feel the brick wall pressing uncomfortably into his back. The price to pay for his position. He didn’t arrive at the Wandering Stairs with the intention to lurk in the shadows—if anything, he wanted to ask Glynard for a pint of his finest—but old habits die hard. Even in the midst of what could easily be described as a world-wide celebration, an event the likes of which the Crystarium has never seen, he still found himself seeking out an advantageous spot. From here, he has a full view of the tavern and the markets beyond and can easily pick his friends out in the crowd.

Not that he thinks the others can’t look after themselves. But he has seen festivities go awry before and even here, even now, with the enemy defeated and the night sky returned, he cannot shake the need to stay on guard.

Ryne has already gently chastised him for it. Gods know what Aureia will say when she finds him. Or Urianger—

“I see thou hast returned to thy usual proclivities. Not unlike a moth drawn unto flame.”

Thancred closes his eyes. Well, that didn’t last long.

He opens his eyes and spots Urianger cutting a clear path across the tavern, a head and shoulders above most of the patrons. His pace is even and relaxed, as though a great weight has been lifted from him, and he carries a glass of wine and a tankard in his hands.

“And here I thought tonight’s events would be reason enough to lay off on the undeserved commentary,” Thancred shoots back, eyeing him as he draws up beside him. “I don’t see why it’s necessary to insult my character like this.”

“Insult? Nay, my friend. Tis simple observation. But if thou dost crave stringent lectures from an e’er sharp tongue, Y’shtola’s company will suffice.”

“Oh, daring to bring Y’shtola into this now, are we? Very brave of you. Tell me, have you had much to drink this fine evening? I seem to recall you being something of a lightweight. Perhaps that explains it.”

Urianger chortles. They exchange grins, far too entertained by this simple back-and-forth that has become a permanent part of their camaraderie. Without a word, he thrusts the tankard into Thancred’s hands and tips him his own in a silent salute.

Thancred murmurs his thanks, absently wrapping his fingers around the handle as he searches the tavern for Y’shtola. From the prickle on the back of his neck, he would prefer if she didn’t overhear that last bit of their conversation lest they never hear the end of it. Thankfully, last he saw her, she was deep in a spirited argument with Moren—and he wasn’t entirely sure who was winning.

Urianger sips at his drink, a blissfully content expression on his face. “Ryne hast outdone herself,” he says, nodding to the garlands decorating the windows and wrapped around the wrought-iron railings. “Truthfully, her enthusiasm hath struck me with some surprise. Ne’er did I anticipate such an ardent desire to participate in such things, but mayhap I underestimated the breadth of her interests.”

Thancred smiles. “I daresay she has a talent for it. And for worming her way into others’ hearts.”

The truth of the matter is that neither of them expected Ryne to throw herself so whole-heartedly into the planning stages of the festivities. They had scarcely returned from the Tempest triumphant and she was already tracking down Lyna, demanding to know how she could help. Considering how little time they have spent in the Crystarium on the whole, it took him by surprise at how quickly she found her footing here.

And it’s hard not to wonder whether it would have happened sooner if not for him. The Exarch had given them accommodations, yes, but just as Urianger flocked to Il Mheg and Y’shtola ingratiated herself in Slitherbough, he did not see much reason to remain. His hunt for sin eaters took him clear across Norvrandt, a duty that did not cease even after he spirited Ryne away from Eulmore. He dragged her everywhere. Training her. Protecting her.

And all but suffocating her spirit.

He grimaces at the memory. That Ryne saw fit to forgive him when he can scarcely forgive himself… It speaks volumes about the kind of person she is. The one she will grow to be.  

“We really should have known better,” he adds after a moment. “Once she sets her sights on a matter, there’s no stopping her.”

Urianger raises an eyebrow. “Indeed,” he says soberly, lowering his wine. “And thy pride in her is more than palpable.”

“Am I proud…?” He chuckles, shaking his head at himself. “Yes. I suppose I am.”

“Then why dost though linger, Thancred? If I may—and no, I must insist thou resist the temptation to interrupt and heed mine words for the duration of this moment—when I didst speak with Ryne earlier this eve, I sensed some disappointment that thou hast withdrawn unto the outskirts. I am uncertain what she envisioned for tonight, but to remain uninvolved and standing on the fringes mayhap communicates to her that thou dost not share in her excitement.”

“It is not that, let me assure you! And you’re one to talk. I haven’t seen you partaking in the festivities either. Have you considered that Ryne may be just as disappointed in you as she is in me—”

“I have been contending with Feo Ul’s most gracious of ambassadors—”

“Of course you have—”

“—who are—it is paramount to note—little scoundrels.”

“Urianger, you do realize that the day will come when you will not have pixies to use as an excuse?”

“Aye. But the day when our massy souls depart the First to return to their vessels upon the Source is not yet upon us. There is much to be done beforehand to ensure safe passage from one world to the next.”

Ugh. Thancred’s shoulders slump. “Please, I am begging you, never use the word massy like that again. Or refer to our bodies as vessels, for that matter.”

Urianger smiles serenely and tips his wine glass to him.

He sighs and scratches the back of his neck, shaking his head. “Perhaps I should clarify. It is not that I have no desire to partake, but rather that my head still spins from all we’ve accomplished. What we bore witness to. As detestable Emet-Selch and his whole rotten ilk are… I cannot so easily forget what we saw in Amaurot. And—gods damn it, I cannot believe I am saying this about an Ascian—perhaps I do understand something of him after all. That desperation to cling to what you loved… to what was lost…”

“The horrors of that bygone era hath given us much to ponder, ‘tis true,” Urianger says gently. “Thou art not alone in thine preoccupation. There are many questions whose answers may be forever beyond our knowing. Mayhap they will haunt us for the remainder of our days—or perchance we will expose their anagogic secrets. For now, that fate remains unknown. But it does not behoove us to indulge in such preoccupations on an eve such as this one, and so it is my turn to beg something of thee. Set aside the temptation to linger on it for the duration of tonight. There will be sufficient time for that anon.”

“I know.”

“Look to thy loved ones. This time is for them and them alone.”

“I am. I do. And you do know you’re included in that, Urianger—”

“I do not speak of myself and thou knowest that plainly.”

Thancred pauses, a lump forming in his throat. Much like Y’shtola, Urianger has a way of striking through to the heart of the matter—even when it takes him twelve sentences to get there when one would suffice.

Beyond the Wandering Stairs, Ryne dashes across the Quadrivium’s lawns, immersing herself in the festivities. Whether it’s youth or enthusiasm or a combination of both, her boundless energy cannot be contained. A remarkable change from the quiet, shy girl she had been when called Minfilia. Thinking back now, perhaps the seeds had always been there—she had merely needed the opportunity to let them grow. There was a time when she would never have dared to go anywhere without him, though it occurs to him now that it may have been out of fear of his reaction rather than any hesitation on her part.

The guilt strikes without warning, a restless, twisting knot at the core of his heart. Some days it’s difficult not to wonder whether he really is all that better than Ran’jit. Aureia had once raked him over the coals for his behaviour, which, thinking back, was wholly deserved. She has never been afraid to speak her mind where he is concerned, something which he is grateful for. Somehow, she is always the one who can knock sense into him when he needs it the most.

He turns, instinctively searching for her. She winds her way through the tavern with her usual quiet intensity. Her unnaturally pale hair shines in the soft lights, making it easy to pick her out of the crowd. She stops here and there, greeting friends and acquaintances, wishing them well. Even from a distance he can see the way her eyes light up, the content smile on her face, the sheer exuberant joy she embodies. She has been through so much these past few months—more than he can even begin to understand—but every trial she has faced has only served to make her stronger.

They still haven’t spoken of what happened that day on the blistering hot sands of Amh Araeng. He remembers all too well the look she gave him when he ordered her to take Ryne and leave him behind. She isn’t a fool; she must have felt the parallels, that sense of déjà vu, as clearly as he did—back to a day long ago in the waterways beneath Ul’dah.

He had stubbornly insisted on remaining behind, standing his ground, placing his trust in her to protect Minfilia while they made their escape. It was a situation that left them with too little time and far too much was left unspoken. He should have said something then—gods know he should have—but he did not, and that regret has been a constant companion. She changed in those intervening years, moving on and discovering love in places far from him. What could have been, if he had only swallowed his pride and his hesitation?

The irony isn’t lost on him that, years later, they would find themselves in similar circumstances. On another world, in a reflection of Thanalan, protecting another Minfilia. But Ran’jit gave them no time—no time for confessions, no time for final words. He was prepared to die for them. He very nearly did. Had Urianger and Alphinaud not arrived sooner, he would have passed from this world, happy knowing that they made it in the end, that Minfilia—that Ryne—was safe in Aureia’s hands, that he did all he could to protect them both.

And she would never know.  

She would never…

You must tell her. No more doubt. No more hesitation.

Aureia laughs, the warmth of her voice carrying over the buzz of a hundred voices. Her head turns, and, for the briefest of moments, her ruby eyes connect with his. She smiles—a tiny, private smile—and his heart melts. He can’t take his eyes off her.  

If you don’t tell her tonight, I will throttle you.  

“Thou hast been swept away on the tides of idle contemplation for nary a minute.”

Thancred blinks, dragging himself out of his thoughts, and finds Urianger watching him with an amused expression on his face. “Am I not allowed a moment to think?” he says sarcastically.

Urianger gives him an uncharacteristic shrug and nurses his wine. “Nay. ‘Tis an observation of mine that thou dost think too much.”

He sighs and passes his tankard to his other hand. By some miracle he hasn’t indulged in it yet. “I must be getting old. I certainly feel the years these days.”

“Aye. Perchance I have spotted a grey hair or two. Or more.”

“Is that so? And here I was hoping you would tell me otherwise. I suppose it was too much to count on you for emotional support.”

Urianger regards him, a serious look in his eye. “Thou knowest the truth of that, my friend.”

He smiles. “Indeed. I do.”

The conversation stills. He pauses, shifting as he adjusts his position against the wall, and allows his gaze to wander. He lingers on Aureia, captivated by the way she lights up the room, and finally raises the tankard to his lips.

The fresh—and noticeably non-alcoholic—taste of water takes him by surprise. He coughs, startled, and nearly spits it out. Urianger watches him, an amused smile on his face, and raises an eyebrow, daring him to say something.

“You really have no faith in me, do you?” Thancred grumbles.

“Just as our souls have transcended time and space, so too has thine reputation for drink and revelry.”

“But I—”

“Does thou require a list to refresh the annals of thine memory? I am happy to oblige. Shalt I commence with an illustrious history from the halcyon days of our youth in Sharlayan? Or mayhap I shouldst direct our collective remembrance to thine era of self-proclaimed bardship. I recall thine attempts to woo many a fair maiden through poetry and song, and remain impressed that thine talents ensnared a number greater than one.”

He splutters. “See, now—”

“Quiet though I may have been in both the Waking Sands and the Rising Stones, reclusive I was not. I remember an assortment of drunken conquests with the likes of Ibrella and Ysera, Joyse and Sigberta, Q’thena, R’zhocri—”

“All right, all right! I see your point. You don’t need to badger on. Gods, Ibrella was years ago. I barely remember her, so how do you?”

“Thou shouldst know better than to underestimate that my mind is of a most eidetic nature.”

“Fine. I don’t deny that I may have indulged in certain… habits in the past. I won’t excuse myself for ignoring my troubles by distracting myself with… Well. Let’s not linger on it. But you are wrong on one account. It wasn’t only fair maidens.”  

Urianger catches his eye and chuckles, a knowing smile on his lips. He raises his glass, leaving Thancred to stew in his mortification while he savours his drink.

Thancred sets his water aside and folds his arms. Aureia has worked her way across the tavern, edging ever closer to his position. But for every step she takes, two or more celebrators catch her attention and draw her aside, eager to personally congratulate her. She has never enjoyed attention like this, thinking little of the fame her deeds as the Warrior of Light accrued. But Norvrandt is not the Source. There are no adoring devotees begging for an interaction, no hordes of aggressive reporters seeking the latest gossip, no military officers or government leaders making unwanted demands of her.

It is simpler here. More personal. Perhaps because she recognizes the faces in the crowd, she speaks to them as herself—as Aureia—rather than as a legendary Warrior of Darkness.

“I see you have taken it upon yourself as a personal challenge to embarrass me,” he says finally, his gaze still lingering on her. Her smile brightens as she takes the young adventurer boy—Taynor, was his name?—aside, offering quiet words of guidance. She has always had a connection to young mages. Perhaps it’s because she sees something of herself in them; or perhaps it is out of a need to offer them the guidance and support she so sorely lacked in her own childhood. “Is this what wine does to you now?”  

“Nay.”

“Nay? That’s it? Nay?”

“Nay.”

Thancred’s eyes narrow. “Who are you and what have you done with Urianger?”

Urianger chuckles. Tilting his head back, he finishes off his glass and sets it on a nearby table. “I simply intended to remind thee that thy priorities lie in a place far different than they once did,” he says gently. “Thou hast grappled with many a dark turn in the past, soothing numbing despair with empty pleasures. I do not envy the journey thou hast partaken since Louisoix’s passing—”

He exhales a faint breath and closes his eyes. It always comes back to that, doesn’t it?

“—and I am proud of thee. For all thou hast accomplished. And for what thou wilt in the future.”

There’s a raw lump in his throat and it’s getting harder to ignore. “If you’re concerned about me backsliding, there is little risk of that now,” he says. “Or… I hope there isn’t. As you said yourself, my priorities have changed. For the better. And if you wouldn’t mind, I would prefer if we dropped this train of thought. I would rather not have Aureia—or Ryne, for that matter—overhear this conversation. They certainly don’t need to be exposed to a list of my… er… conquests, as you so delicately put it.”

Urianger raises an eyebrow.

He flushes. “Oh, don’t look at me that way. Aureia knows my history all too well.”

Gods know she does. Though it has been some nine years—for him, at least, the misaligned time between the Source and the First makes his headache when he thinks about it too much—he can still feel the sharp twist of remorse when he thinks about those months in Ishgard. How easy it was to indulge in drink and sex to hide from truths he couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge. He knew what he was doing when he ended up with Hilda, her closest friend, that night—and many nights afterwards. He knew how it would hurt her.

And, in that moment, he didn’t care.

By rights she should never have forgiven him.

“So, yes. I am certain she remembers how much of a fool I’ve been. How much of one I still am.”  

Across the way, Aureia bids goodbye to Taynor and catches his eye. He shifts his weight as he watches her approach, struck by sudden uncertainty as she moves closer with every step. When he considers what to say to her, somehow there are both a thousand things and absolutely nothing.

Desperately searching for some point of conversation, he latches onto something Urianger said earlier. “What did you mean by self-proclaimed bardship earlier?” he says. “You make it sound like I’m some amateur.”

“And thou art not?”

“I—”

“I have yet to see thee touch an instrument or pen and perform a song. Thine aptitude for stealth and espionage is not conducive to such merriment.”

“That doesn’t mean anything! Many people have conflicting aspects to their character. Simply because you have framed yourself as a master of prophecy and not much else doesn’t mean we all should subscribe to a singular facet.”

“I did not say as much. I merely implied that thine current capacity for poetry and song dost not harken to the title of bard.”

“You make me sound like the most amateur of amateurs—”

“What’s going on here?”

Aureia draws up before them, dark red eyes passing from Thancred to Urianger and back again. A muscle twitches in her cheek, as if she is holding back a laugh.

“Urianger is of the opinion that I am not a bard,” Thancred says quickly, eyeing his friend.

She blinks and folds her arms, a perplexed expression on her face. “Thancred, I know plenty of bards—”

He raises an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue.

“You are not one of them.”

[hythlodaeus-mynewoldfriend]

A small, gray box wrapped in a purple bow sits atop the doorstep. Inside are a few small items — some polish for a gunblade? A set of bottles to hold various cosmetic goods within, some shiny polished shells, and various assorted decorated cookies. Happy Starlight!

"What's all this?" Siberite asks looking the box over and a small shake, "Starlight gift? But why is it so late?"

"You realize a lot of places in Eorzea close for a few days during Starlight, right," Thancred says with a chuckle, wrapping his arms around her to rest his chin on her head.

"Well its not like there was ever much time to stop and celebrate," she grumbles before waving away the notion, "I also cannot be expected to know all cultural details of Eorzea seeing as I didn't grow up there." He gives a playful roll of his eyes as she turns the slip of paper attached to the bow over, "From Saint Nymeia. I don't recognize the handwriting though."

"So it must be from the Saint themself."

She shakes her head pulling the bow free, eyes widening at the contents inside. "Cookies! And decorated so well," she holds up a white snowflake that sparkles from its pearl dusted sugar, "Well we have to find a place to hide these lest my parents claim them, for it is 'unhealthy' for a Lady like myself to have." She hands the plate to Thancred, who takes it and sits on her bed sorting them between the two, "Let's see, oh there's something here for you! At least I'm fairly certain it is." She holds the bottle up watching the viscous liquid move down the bottle, "I think it must be handmade due to its lack of a label."

With a cookie stuffed in his mouth does he take it, popping the cork free to sniff its contents, "Oh this is some genuine polish. Comes from Bozja or at least the method does."

"And that's where the gunblade technique began, if I remember correctly." Thancred nods, searching for his bag, "Perfect timing seeing as you just ran out the other day. Let's see what else-. Oh! How perfect!" Siberite smiles holding up a small pack of bottles, "I have been needing something smaller to keep my make up in. Make everyone else stop complaining about how much space my current ones take up."

"I never complained."

"Not only that it would be much easier for the shops we visit to fill these than the other ones."

"Wouldn't their smaller size mean that we'd have to stop more often?"

"And?" He raises a brow, "Oh how tragic we get to see more market places that I would have wanted to visit anyway. You know there's a lot you can learn about a culture from their beauty routines."

"Twelve help us when you have to convince Estinien of such things." He glances down into the box at the last gift of polished shells, "Oh those are pretty."

She picks up a pink one turning it over in her hand, "They are! A little impractical as they are, but I saw a stand that had jewelry made of shells, maybe they can help in making them into some necklaces and charms." She lays them out on the bed, "They match up nicely with one another and there are enough that I think maybe we could make three matching ones."

"Three?"

"Mhm. One for you, me, and then take one to Ryne....after I see if they're from anywhere more specific." She smiles up at Thancred, "What do you think?"

He returns the smile with a soft one of his own, kissing her cheek, "I think that sounds like a wonderful idea."

[xiv-wolfram]

Pixies - Comic Script

Shadowbringers - lvl 72

Wolfram is high on Pixie mushrooms in Il Mheg. This is the best thing I've ever written.

Wolfram Saga Comics (Chronological)

This is the script for a future comic. Posting for those who don’t want to wait to get the story. Numbers indicate frame number. A/B mean a frame is split.

Part 1

Shot of Pixie area in Il Mheg. Narrator - "Wolfram, Thancred, Minfilia, and the twins have journeyed to I'll Mheg in search of Uriangier. Wolfram, feeling down about how he left things on the source, was all too eager to play with the pixies when they asked." The Scions stand around talking while Wolfram dances around in the background with pixies. 

Alisae takes Thancred aside - "So - we both know about him and Commander Aldynn right?" Wolfram doing cartwheels in the background.

Thancred shocked - "Oh, he told you as well?!"

Alisae annoyed - "Only because he was horribly drunk."

Thancred beams - "Aye, that's the way to loosen his tongue! So, why do you ask? Did something happen?" Wolfram holding onto a pixie trying to fly with them.

Alisae rolls her eyes - "From what I gather, Raubahn wants to be with him and for some reason he feels he can't even though he wants to.I don't understand all the dramatic nonsense. Just that our friend is hurting worse than I've ever seen him." Wolfram higher off the ground with the help of 2 pixies.

Thancred concerned - "Oh… he didn't tell me. I kept trying to help them get back together, but I suppose there was no point in my efforts if he himself is against it." 

Alisae /facepalm - "The world is in danger and you're upset your matchmaking attempts didn't work out? Gods, I'm surrounded by romantic fools. I wish we could give him time to grieve but we need to save this shard."

Thancred smiles sadly - "Can't he have a bit of fun? They did ask us to play after all." 

Alisae surprised - "Did you not see him stuffing his face with the mushrooms they gave him?!" Wolf falling back to earth.

Thancred surprised - "Oh! That's not good." 3 pixies hovering over Wolf, who is still on the ground. *stars*

Alisae smirks - "I have a feeling you've more experience with this kind of thing. Just… do something to snap him out of it."

Part 2

Thancred walks over to the stunned Wolfram, kneels down, and shoves a leaf in his mouth - "Here, this moss will counteract the pixie magic. You want to tell me why you agreed to play with them and were fool enough to eat their food?"

Wolfram beams and boops Thancred on the nose - "Nah! Did you know - you have a cute lil baby face?"

Thancred laughs - "I've been told as much by many women. Didn't expect it from you, though."

Wolfram smugly explains - "Well you do!"

Wolf makes a pouty face and points at Ryne - "But now you have another baby to care for… but you're making her sad."

Thancred surprised - "She's hardly a baby! And what do you know of it?! You've just met her."

Wolf smiles smugly and dramatically holds a hand to his heart - "Because I know how she feels, dummy! That Crystal's curse. She looks up to you like a daughter. But you're a meanie hurting her feelings."

Thancred annoyed - "What do you care?"

Wolf smiles sadly, looking at the ground - "because I'm a meanie too. I hurt the ones that love me. I hurt him."

Wolf /content, points at himself - "So, don't be me. Be nice And you go save the world and I'll just stay here and play with the pretty fairies, okay?"

Thancred scoffs as he hands Wolf more moss - "Man, you are a mess…and I can tell you're hurting. If I could leave you here to play in the flowers I would. Here, have some more."

Wolf excitedly eating moss - "Oooh sugar floss! Hey *nom* was the sky always this green?!" Thancred sits down next to him.

Close shot. Thancred smiles sadly - "So, how about this. I'll be nice if you will. I'll start being kinder to the Oracle and when we're home you get back together with the General. Your political concerns don't matter."

Wolf laying on the grass, making snow angels in the flowers and beaming - "He's a Commander now. I'm soooo proud of him! My gladiator is running our homeland!"

Thancred raises an eyebrow and smiles, looking down at him - "Yes yes, you know what I mean. So will you do it? Go be happy with "Your gladiator?" "

Wolf still making grass angels /biggrin  - "Sorry, can't do it! I'm a monster! You be nice to the girl though, okies?" Thancred - "What do you mean you're a monster?"

Wolf stops making grass angels ands winks at Thancred - "Can't tell you that! It's a secret! So - you two save this world. And then come back and we can all just play with the faeries! They're so beautiful! Maybe if we're good little playthings for them they'll give us wings too!"

Thancred surprised - "You don't want to return to the Source?!"

Wolf holds his hand in front of his face, staring at it like he's trying to figure out what it is. Smiles sadly - "I don't belong there. I belong with the fae. It hurts less here. Everything hurts less."

Thancred scoffs and throws over more moss - "Okay, time for more candy. Eat up." Thought - 'How long does this take to work?'

Wolf covering his stuffed mouth and literally says - "Nom nom nom nom nom!"

Thancred facepalm - "Godsdammit Wolf are you even swallowing it?!"

Wolf looking guilty with stuck out cheek - "Yeppers!"

Camera focus back on the twins and Ryne talking, Thancred straddling Wolf in the background. Wolf pushing back Thancred's hands. Wolf yelling - "NOOO! Yucky! You can't make me!"

The teens start turning to watch them. Thancred - "Damnit Wolf don't force me to draw my blade!" Wolf - "I've swallowed swords much bigger'n that!"

Teens watching, Alisae facepalm, Alphi embarrassed, Ryne confused.  Thancred - "WHAT?! Ah! So the Ul'dahn legends are true!" Wolf - "FOUGHT! I mean fought swords bi -"

Back to Wolf and Thancred. Thancred straddling Wolf. Pinning Wolf's hands above him with one arm and covering his mouth and nose with the other hand. Wolf's eyes wide. Thancred - "Whatever, just swallow the damned medicine!"

Back to teens. Ryne, uncomfortable - "So… You two are in charge, right?" Alphinaud facepalm - "Yes. Until we find Y'Shtola or Uriangier at least." Alisae explains smugly - "Those two are really just the muscle of the group, fear not you're in good hands!"

Thancred still straddling Wolf, raising arms in triumph. Wolf gagging - "So bitter." Thancred - "All right! Now let's find Uriangier!"

Wolfram Saga Comics (Chronological)